Stupid
by Love Your Kiwi
Summary: He never could say what was in his heart, and this time it might have cost him his one shot at happiness. [shounen ai.BrianJustin]


**Warning.** Boy love with a lime. Don't like it, don't read it.

**Disclaimer.** Queer as Folk belongs to Showtime. Lyrics belong to Sarah Mclachlan's "Stupid" and Shinedown's "45" respectively.

**.x.**

Harsh kisses, tongues sliding in and out of mouths, spit being swapped in the messiest of fashions, and then one pulled away. The blond was panting, his back pressed against the wooden floor, his shirt lost somewhere in the exchange, and his pants undone.

"You like that?" his brunet lover whispered, hazel eyes watching intently.

A breathless reply, "Yes."

The kisses continue, hard, fast and demanding. Then suddenly, they stopped again, Brian sitting back on his haunches. The blood in Justin's veins was running hot, and he couldn't let this little setback hold him down; leaning up, he planted kisses all across his lover's chiseled features.

"Why'd you stop?"

Cold eyes filled with anger and a hint of disgust stare back at the artist, causing him to pause in his ministrations, confusion and fear roiling in the pit of his stomach.

"Brian?"

The man in question sniffed at his lover like a curious dog, his eyes glaring all the while.

"Go take a shower." He leaned in closer so their noses almost touched. "You stink."

Justin's heart stopped. Brian knew, somehow, he knew and that was his way of telling him. Gracefully, the brunet rose to his feet, not even sparing the blond another look as he walked away. He lay there, trying to catch his breath, which seemed to be the hardest thing in the world.

Eventually, he lifted his torso off the floor with his elbows before getting up completely. With a sigh, the artist headed to the bathroom to wash away not only the traces of Ethan, but also whatever just happened between himself and Brian.

**.x.**

_And when the morning comes, my hands still reach out for you._

Sunlight threatened to scorch its' way through the brunet's eyelids, pulling a groan from dry lips as consciousness took its' own sweet time reclaiming his body. Throwing a sleep-leaden arm over his eyes to prevent blindness, he used his other hand to reach beside him, where the sheets should have been filled with a certain blond.

But they felt only air. No one was lying next to him, no one would join him for his morning shower, no one would tease him while he dressed for work, and when he returned home, there wouldn't be a hot meal waiting for him with a smiling someone to kiss him.

He shot up, his arms falling behind him to support his weight as he looked in bewilderment at the empty bed. Brian's heart caught in his throat, his breathing faltering a fraction. Why wasn't Justin beside him? Where was the artist? Had he already gotten up and left for school? A glance at the clock shot the last conclusion to shreds; it was 6:25am. Justin never left until at least 8:30am.

It hit him like a bag of bricks to his groin: Justin didn't live with him anymore. Hell, he'd been gone for weeks already. He had been coming home to his lonely loft nightly, forgoing clubbing in favor of staring at his ceiling tinted blue by the lights above the bed they once shared.

_Love has made me a fool; it set me on fire and watched as I floundered._

Had his heart actually hoped that the blond would be there, waiting with an earth-shattering smile and a good morning kiss? Was he honestly that much of a fool? Deep down, Brian would like to think he wasn't, that this was all merely a phase that he would fall out of and soon he would be back to what his mind claimed was normal.

But what if that didn't happen? What if Brian remained like this forever, moping around his apartment, ignoring his ritual nights on the towns and even more so, his friends; all in favor of analyzing the plaster that lay over his head, his toes curling themselves idly as phantom touches teased his body.

Ethan was now the center of Justin's universe, the scruffy violinist with his rundown apartment creating the vast distance between himself and the art student. Jealous began to unfurl into green flames in the pit of the advertiser's stomach as his mind conjured up images of the two making love by candlelight or Ethan serenading the sweet blond into consciousness with the instrument that brought him his meager income on street corners.

After all, those were the very reasons he had been left here by himself; no one-night stand able to fill the void that Justin's absence had cut into his supposedly black heart. Friends stopped by every now and then to make sure the brunet was still alive, usually dragging the man into the bathroom for a shower since he seemed quite content in staying in bed for the rest of his life.

It might have been pathetic, but it was the only thing that made him feel alive; reliving all the nights they had spent fucking each other senseless on the duvet, Justin curling up against his chest afterwards, all the sweet kisses that were bestowed to him seemed like a gift from a god he no longer believed in … Now all of it was out of his reach, and it was slowly killing him.

**.x.**

A knock at his door barely made Brian turn his head. Maybe if he ignored them long enough they'd leave, he honestly wasn't in the mood for neither company nor answering the door naked. Whoever was on the other side seemed to want the latter to be a reality as the knocking persisted.

Sighing dramatically, the brunet slithered off the bed, his bare feet making nary a sound as he padded towards the metal monstrosity that posed as his front door. He settled his hip against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow as he slid open the door just enough to view who was on the other side.

The oxygen that was halfway to his lungs stopped in mid-flight and proceeded to choke him as his chocolate eyes took in the person standing before him. Blond hair, blue eyes, perfect height and the smoothest skin he'd ever laid eyes on. It couldn't be…

Suddenly, he had his arms full of couldn't be, so warm and human that it just had to be real.

_Whatever happened to the young man's heart? Swallowed by pain as he slowly fell apart._

"Justin?" he gasped, his arms holding the boy tight, still in shock that this wasn't a dream.

Only a soft whimper came as a reply as the blond lifted his head, tears that Brian hadn't even noticed against his bare chest, shining in bottomless blue pools before running down pale cheeks.

What was he doing here? Had something happened with Ethan? A delightful lover's spat that had left their pseudo-relationship in shambles? A shiver shot up Brian's spine at the very thought, and he chided himself for being so selfish. But the thought sparked hope in his heart, causing him to cling desperately to the younger man.

On impulse, he leaned down and licked the salty trails from Justin's face. When the artist's eyes widened, Brian could no more help himself than a moth could with a flame. The advertiser pulled Justin as close as possible before kissing him softly on the mouth. He thought the blond would stiffen, would pull away and damn him nine different ways to hell; but the storm never hit.

Instead, Justin deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking teasingly over the older man's lips. Hands entwined in hair, and the kiss became more primal, fueled by loneliness, lust, desire, passion.

"I-I missed you..." Brian gasped when they briefly parted. It could have been the hardest thing he'd ever had to say in his life, but his pride had crumbled weeks ago.

"I know," the student replied, shifting his attention to the tanned column of neck that was exposed so beautifully.

"Justin… I-I love you," tore its' way from Brian's heart, coursing up his throat, spilling over his tongue in a rush.

Eyes that glistened with tears met, before the blond murmured, "I love you too, Brian."

They stood there, their mouths already back on intimate terms as tongues dueled, teeth knocked together, and lips bruised under the pressure. Eventually, the door was shut, clothes were abandoned and the lovers began the process of reclaiming every single inch of each other with sweet kisses and teasing licks.

Brian Kinney had been called a lot of things in his life, but let it never be said that he was a coward. Sure, it took him months of vehement denial to finally say the words that mattered most; but I never said he was very good with deadlines.


End file.
